travel light

i spoke with a man who lives off the land

 a young man with an old soul

we walked through a field where he grows corn

he spoke softly and i had to listen closely to hear him

the sky was as blue as a robin's egg

the breeze came from the west and the deep green corn stalks swayed softly

he pulled an ear from one of the stalks and peeled back the leaf

as yellow as the yellow in a Van Gogh painting

i couldn't help but smile when he smiled

he rubbed it with his thumb and a few kernels fell to the ground

he took a bite and handed it to me

it was sweeter than any corn i can remember

we walked to a small pond down the hill

purple wildflowers and red clover covered its banks

we sat down on the ground and he said,

" i used to be an attorney. i didn't know God, though i pretended to. i had money, cars, girlfriends, a big house, i was a player. I woke up one day empty, dead inside. I sold everything and bought this place. i don't have a car payment, no television, i do have a small radio and i get the local paper. i grow my own food, raise one hog a year, a few goats and chickens for meat and eggs. I have a milk cow named Betty. a few old dogs and cats i got from the animal shelter. i drive a beat up jeep to Mass every day but saturday cause there is no Mass here on saturday. i am finding something i had wondered about for a long time. it is a simple life, not an easy life, but a simple one. i am learning to travel light, and i am not as empty anymore."

 

wkm

for Jeff Cavins